In this installment, we take a break from the "real world" and explore the innermost depths of our subconscious. Warning! This episode is not for those with any semblance of a life. Though, I guess if you had a life, that would preclude you being here.

Prologue: (A Cat's) Ode to Joy

all is bliss in the window i rest
Natalie Portman strokes my back.
stroke stroke stroke

all is bliss in the gutter the nest sits
Natalie Portman flutters by
flutter flutter flutter

NOTE: This guide supersedes ESR's hopeless "Sex Tips for Geeks" which is, at best, utter fantasy based on experiences with a RealDoll and, at worst, will land you in prison for the rest of your sick, unnatural life.

The sky was dark and the air was cold and blue as I watched for
Diamond Dave and the group of alien governors. Of course, the
weather had been mostly the same since the aliens arrived, for
they couldn't survive here otherwise. They came and modified
our weather to suit their own needs.

I guess it wasn't as though they hadn't been invited. NASA had
decided to burn a message on a cd and sent it out on the Voyager
Millenium Edition. Never underestimate the disastrous effects
that can be produced by budget cuts. The message, which had
originally been planned to be a welcoming in every known language
and a collection of '70s mellow favorites, actually turned out
to be four short sentences incompetently monotoned by Pat Summeral: "Come on by Earth. We have plenty.
PLENTY. And more." Who could resist?

A whirlwind of leaves swirled past the bay windows. I decided
to wait outside. I could do some work on the barn while I waited.

The barn was falling apart, but it would still provide a good nest
for the cats. Cats had a very hard time of it since the arrival of
the aliens. All wildlife did. The aliens built settlements
everywhere, annhilating practically every spotted owl refuge and
caribou park on the planet. The mass displacement of wildlife made
it more difficult for the domesticated variety.

I continued arranging the park benches and tarp in the barn to provide
some cover for the cats. I found an old sofa and decided to use the foam
from the cushions to make a nice nest for them. I was busy tearing the
foam into strips when I heard a rumbling. Thunder? Couldn't be. The
pattern was different... like...

I was shocked as a heard of elephants stampeded into the barn. Cats
scattered everywhere. Most of them scampered up a single slat of wood
onto the second "floor" of the barn. But the elephants followed. They
were Indian elephants too. Fucking foreigners. "Fucking Indians!"

The elephants frothed at the mouth. I had severely angered them. But
I knew they wouldn't come near me, since I bore the mark of the aliens.
I ran toward the elephants, first in circles, as they tried to avoid me.
Eventually, one by one, they fled the barn, their trunks stiffened into
the air, spewing foam.

"I hate Goddamn Indians."

I straightened the barn out while the cats hid in the corner upstairs. I
heard the dieseling death-throws of Diamond Dave's car engine choking
itself to a halt. Then the car doors. Three of them. Two alien
governors had come with him.

I patted down some foam and rushed around front, into the yard.

"Helloooooo!"

"Hey, Dave."

The alien governors looked at me with their emotionless yellow eyes as they sipped blue cheese dressing. I
nodded at them with a wrinkled nose, unable to hide my disdain.

I recently acquired a book entitled Richard Stallman's Sex Tip For Geeks. I assumed the "Tip" of the title was a typo, and the pages within would contain many hints enabling those of the geek persuasion to meet, bag, and ditch women. Unfortunately, it's no typo: the reader must wade through 200 pages of turgid ramblings about legalizing marijuana, civil libertarianism, and free software, before finally getting to the sole sex tip referred to in the title, which is this:

1. Invent EMACS

2. Oceans of pussy!

I'm no expert, but it seems to me that that first step's a real doozy. I have a sinking feeling this book is never going to help me get laid. Did I just throw away $15.95?

Yes, your purchase was a complete waste of valuable capital. The most you can expect to get from Mr. Stalimann is a nasty rash that emits a foul odor and a necrotic foot.

All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective
companies.
Comments are owned by the Poster. The Rest ® 2001, 2002, 2003 Adequacy.org.
The Adequacy.org name, logo, symbol, and taglines "News for Grown-Ups", "Most
Controversial Site on the Internet", "Linux Zealot", and "He just loves Open Source
Software", and the RGB color value: D7D7D7 are trademarks of Adequacy.org. No part
of this site may be republished or reproduced in whatever form without prior written
permission by Adequacy.org and, if and when applicable, prior written permission by
the contributing author(s), artist(s), or user(s). Any inquiries are directed to
legal@adequacy.org.